You wouldn’t believe it, the singer states. There she was readying for her first album release in eight years, ecstatically in love with her newish partner, and at long last the parent to a young child after dealing with conception issues for ten years, on top of the world. Suddenly in spring she was told she had breast cancer.
The artist, real name Jess Cornish, is famous for speaking her mind. The LP, the provocatively titled album, was supposed to be an transparent story, tackling every moment of pain she’d faced since she last worked on songs (a gynecological condition, miscarriage, broken romances, psychological manipulation, suicide) with characteristic openness. The lead track, the song No Secrets, was released in April. But by then there remained a major undisclosed truth. Her diagnosis. Later next release, her song Living My Best Life, came out in late spring and the artist was speaking publicly about how she was enjoying life to the fullest, while at the same time coping with her cancer. Four weeks after she disclosed her condition, and in July she received surgical treatment.
She gives me her best “What the fuck?” expression. “I come out with a song called No Secrets. I’m doing every interview, and they ask, ‘Any updates?’ and I answer, ‘Uh, nothing really’” Cornish has just had to call off performances because she’s awaiting follow-up surgery.
We’re at a photography studio in the capital. She is sporting a tan faux-leather coat, blue jeans with elaborate white patches, beige footwear and large glasses. Picture rocker vibe meets 70s singer aesthetic. “It seems like I’m in the seventies and I should have a man with facial hair.” Easy Rider, I say, referencing the film. “They used to call me that!” She grins. Cornish is sharp-witted, bold and blunt. She says she has always fancied doing comedy and is aiming for her initial standup show in the coming year. “I enjoy humor. During performances I frequently joke about the audience.”
Medical Challenges and Discovery
The artist was planning an appearance at the Baftas when she discovered a mass. “I quickly sought to get it examined, had an scan, and they said, ‘It seems benign; your tissue is healthy.’ And I was, like, ‘But I can feel it. My arm hurts and tingling in my hands whenever I rise.’ And they said, ‘Well, let’s just do a biopsy?’ That was 28 March, the post-birthday.” It was a weekend eve. The physician told her if it was serious she’d reach out on the Monday. By then she had assured herself it was fine. The way she describes it, it was inopportune to face illness when she had a busy schedule.
“Just two weeks before from releasing the album after years away and no new music. And she [the doctor] texted and said, ‘Is six okay?’ And I assumed, ‘It’s virtual, probably routine.’ So I log in thinking it’s all going to be good, and she goes, ‘Please take a seat.’ The solemn tone? And she continues, ‘I’m so, so sorry but your reports have shown aggressive cancer.’” What did you say? “I answered, ‘Well, that’s not great. What awful timing.’ My initial thought was, ‘I can’t die because my son needs me.’”
I’ve been labeled difficult for knowing myself
She considered the operation frightening and surreal. “I hate being put under. You’re escorted. You know when you have emergency surgery you go on a gurney, but now I just strolled down with a hospital gown and my rear exposed. Like a dystopian scene.” But, she notes, she’s been blessed. Without chemo or radio, just the op. “It’s terrible, but yet Thank fuck I found it early. I had the mastectomy recently and my affected breast now appears as a fruit under fabric.” Another grin. “I got to keep the nipple, though.”
The subsequent surgery is both medical and cosmetic. Her boobs, she remarks, are now “uneven. The implant is larger than before. How rude! I felt, don’t add insult to injury, I’m already having a hard period. So rude! Ironically I said I’d not undergo augmentation because I’ve got OCD, and I know they’d never be ideal. Cancer ruined that plan.”
Previous Struggles
Cornish is accustomed to medical issues. She believes her perspective on the cancer has been so positive because she’s used to physical challenges. They have often coincided with professional successes, acting as a reminder, or blow, to make her recall not to take anything for granted. “Honestly, I feel life goes, ‘You having a good time? Take a seat.’ Ever since I was a child, it has always gone alongside high points for me; something severe or obscure has happened to my health.”
She recalls to her 11-year-old self, already starting her career starring in the London theater in Whistle Down the Wind (she was selected at the age of nine). That’s when she was diagnosed with the heart condition Wolff-Parkinson-White syndrome, which can cause a rapid pulse as well as vertigo and palpitations. “I rehearsed between visits on an IV drip, and returning to the hospital at night.” She fast-forwards several years, and 17-year-old Jess has become part of the trio the group while enrolled in the academy. “I secured a deal, and I had a cerebral event. Then when I was about to put out music in 2020 I had a automobile accident and my voice box shifted and I was unable to vocalize for a year.”
Wow, I say, wait, I am overwhelmed. You really had a stroke at 17? She nods|agrees
